


Of Crabs and Lobsters

by Anne_de_Breuil



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:25:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_de_Breuil/pseuds/Anne_de_Breuil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loras Tyrell: <em>Stannis has the personality of a lobster.</em><br/>Renly Baratheon: <em>He is still my older brother.</em><br/>King Stannis is depressed after the Blackwater, and he locked himself in Dragonstone, until a hostage from Claw Isle arrived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There, in a perfect line, were his ships. The _Fury,_ his own galley, the _Lord Steffon,_ the Stag of the Sea, Velaryon’s four ships, him in the _Pryde of Driftmark_ , Sallador’s _Valyria_ and Celtigar’s _Red Claw_ and _Swordfish_. Not very far away, the _Black Betha, Wraith and Lady Marya_ leaded by his Onion knight. And many, many others. All ready for the ultimate sea battle that would no doubt bring King’s Landing to his feet. Until the night exploded in a sick green colour, and thousands of his men drowned in the Blackwater. Stannis Baratheon was once more betrayed by his one and only love, the sea. When he was young, the sea took away his parents, and he continued to love it. When he was Ship Master, he thought the sea was on his side, when he defeated the Ironborn fleet, but then realized he had lost so many lives in the process. And now…

Now, after this horrendous defeat, Claw Isle, the lands of lord Celtigar, who fought beside him, had sworn allegiance to Joffrey Baratheon – _Lannister_ , he corrected himself. So he lost another bannerman to the lions. His council was meeting to solve this problem, and Sir Axel Florent was proposing to burn it to the ground in retaliation, but he already saw the disappointed look his Onion knight sent towards him. He bade him to speak, and the chamber erupted in threats from the Florents. Of course the former smuggler would be against the attack. Slaying women, children and wounded soldiers was not in his nature. And Stannis was inclined to follow his advice once more. Thinking about him, the king suddenly noticed that Davos was always by his side, speaking the truth even when it would get him executed, unless all those pompous lords in his Council, more prone to exchange sides when the situation arised.

“I am your man,” he said. “to do with as you please.”

“And I would have you speak the truth, no matter how bitter it is.” He answered. “On your knees, Onion knight”

“My lord?” Davos enquired feebly, as he did so.

“Are you my true and honest liege man, and do you swear to serve me loyally and give me honest counsel and swift obedience?”

“I do, Your Grace”.

“Now, rise again as Lord of the Rainwood, Admiral of the Narrow Sea and Hand of the King.”

“What? But, Your Grace, I am unworthy…” Davos was stunned, to say the least.

“Yes, they would think you are unworthy, but I _am_ the king. And I value your counsel, so there is no-one better.” He said. “Anyway, I’ll follow your advice concerning Lord Celtigar, but I’ll send him a raven to submit me his firstborn and heir as a hostage, to be sure he won’t attack us.”

“Of course, my lord.” The new Hand of the King answered. “I will take all the dispositions, and will collect the boy myself. I’ll arrange the trip as soon as possible.”

“Very well, Lord Hand.” Stannis stated. “You are dismissed.”

Davos Seaworth bowed deeply to his king, crossing the lady Melisandre in his way out.

“I think congratulations are in order, my lord.” She smiled to him. “Maybe you could thank R’hllor for bestowing his favour to you.”

“ _The king_ has granted me his favour, and I have thanked him accordingly.” He dryly answered, and went to give some orders to prepare his departure.


	2. The hostage

The raven was sent, and not a fortnight later, they received the answer. Lord Celtigar apologized for his behaviour, and granted he was a true follower of king Stannis at his heart, so his hostage would meet them in Claw Isle’s little bay in two days’ time to sail back with them. Accordingly, Davos took a little merchant boat, the _Widow_ , and filled the crew with his best men, all very able to defend themselves on land or at the sea. The mission was a very easy one, but he couldn’t be cautious enough, surrounded as they were by Lannisters.

Claw Isle wasn’t very far from Dragonstone, in fact, so in the dawn light of the next day, he spotted Claw’s Bay, and a lonely fisher boat that stood there, rooking lightly with the waves. They approached the ship, and there, among a few men’s watch, stood a hooded figure, tall but not very broad-shouldered. He supposed he was the lord’s son, but wondered briefly why his face was covered. The captain of Celtigar’s ship handled the prisoner to them and bid them a safe trip back, then turned his little boat and fled to the coast. Davos couldn’t stop thinking that something was amiss.

When the hostage was onboard, he started squirming and turning, and he made some gestures to be rid from his hood. Lord Seaworth would see no reason for not doing so, therefore he asked a soldier to free the boy. He was very surprised to see a riot of curls coming down the shoulders of the supposed hostage, and when they freed him from the gag, a _very_ feminine voice telling them:

“Stop staring at me gaping like a fish, you lot. You asked for Lord Celtigar’s firstborn, and here I am. My father’s first born legitimate child.”

“A woman.” Davos stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes, indeed.” She answered. “Talana Celtigar, at your service. And you must be…”

“Forgive me, my lady. Davos Seaworth, at yours.” He answered.

“Oh,” she smiled. “The Onion knight. My father’s allegiance would be capital, if the king sent his more trusted advisor to fetch me.”

“In fact, my lady, I doubt he was expecting _you”_ he stated. Davos could already anticipate the wrath of the king when he discovered Celtigar has fooled him. He prayed the old Gods and the new he wouldn’t decide to offer her to his priestess’s fires.

“I wasn’t expecting it, neither.” She sighed. “My father is a clever old man. He had done what the king asked him, but saved his _cherished_ heir and send me instead. You’ll find he is insensible to my well-being, but could use me as an excuse to change sides _again_.”

“Besides,” she continued, “He was eager to get rid of me. He had gone through a challenge to find me a suitable husband, and when I was finally married, he burned down the Blackwater. So the name of your ship is quite fitting, don’t you think so? A widow in a _Widow_ boat.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, my lady.” He told her, suddenly very serious. “Sadly, I lost four sons in that battle.”

“I am deeply sorry, my lord. I can’t even imagine the pain of a father who outlives their sons.”

He stood silent, lost in his sorrow, and she left him be, choosing to place herself at the bow. She stood against the wind that made her curls go wild around her face, but she seemed not to notice. She wasn’t flinching or sea-sick, so Davos thought she had sailed before, and the way she welcomed the sea mist told him she enjoyed it. She was quite odd for a lady, dressed in breeches and strongly armed with a sword at her side and a dagger at her back, and for what he saw, two daggers concealed in her boots. However, she wasn’t trying to mimic a man, as some other warrior-woman he had seen, she was completely feminine in her ways. She talked sweetly and politely enough, and she walked in long and elegant strides, but her swaying hips drew every man attention to her. He thanked the gods it was only some miles to Dragonstone, or there would be trouble, for sure.

Suddenly, she seemed to tense and inspected the horizon with interest. He couldn’t see what she saw, but he doubted it was the coast already. She turned around and shouted:

“Ship ahoy!” And the Hell broke loose.

“It’s a Lannister’s watch ship, my lord. Not very large.” Some sailor stated. “Your orders?”

“We can’t turn around; they will catch up with us in no time. We can’t reach Dragonstone in time. We must hide, wait until they are aboard, and then fight them, and pray there are not a lot of those bastards.” He said.

So they armed themselves, only twenty men facing an unknown number of Lannister sailors, they hid in the hold until they heard a shout.

“Stop there. Board the ship! Search for anyone and kill them!”

They overheard some footsteps on the wood panels, not many, fortunately, and they waited for the first sailor to open the trap. One of Stannis’ soldier run him through with his sword before he could utter a sound, and they went outside quickly. Davos found himself surrounded by a lot of soldiers as soon as the Lannisters got hold of the situation. Strangely enough, they seem to understand he was the most important man, even when he was dressed exactly has his fellow sailors. It was like they were searching for him, and it wasn’t good. He evaluated the skirmish, and it seemed no one could help him, and a sense of dread filled him. ‘I’m likely dying here’ he thought, until he heard a strangled sound and one of his attackers dropped dead on the ground. A very smug woman was facing his enemies now, her sword drawn, deftly parrying every blow they sent her way, and eventually dodging swiftly when someone tried to hold her. He composed himself and started to fight with all he had, and after a long time, they managed to turn the tides and make the few Lannisters left to head for their boat. In a cold voice, he commanded:

“Thomey, do you still have that jar of wildfire, just in case?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Burnt them down.”

The remaining of the trip was a quite interesting one, all the crew suddenly aware they had a very capable sword-woman among them. They divided themselves in two groups: one that threw bawdy japes at her every time she was on sight, and another who though –very wisely, in his opinion- that it was better to let her be, and watch her for afar, least they would find themselves with four inches of castle-forged iron buried in their chest.


	3. Welcome to Dragonstone

“Look what they sent us, a juicy crab! I will suck off all that tasty meat from her bones any day…” One guard said just as she passed by the gates, and palmed her bottom roughly. She spun around like a lightning, and pull a dagger to the guard’s throat, hissing angrily:

“Is that so? And I’ll take your balls off and wear them in my sword belt. That is, of course, if I could find them.”

The patrol soldiers snickered, as they already knew it was no empty threat, and someone said:

“Aye, lad, she had the guts for it! Already gelded some lions, anyway…”

“Stop it at once!” Davos practically yelled. “If the king hears you talking in such a disrespectful tone to his hostage, he’ll punish you accordingly.”

That statement shut them up abruptly, as he himself took the fingers of his maimed hand to his neck, searching for the little bag of bones that was no longer there. He sighed and thought of Blackwater, but then drew his sight to his left, where the proud woman was standing. She sported a sad smile on her face.

“Don’t bother yourself about their _unsavoury_ comments, my lord,” she told him. “I’m used to them already. It’s not like my father was very much concerned about my safety or my modesty, so I learned very fast to cope.”

“And to fight back, or so I have heard…” he mused.

“I’m deeply sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but even when I am a hostage I will not stand anyone manhandling me against my will.” She told him.

“Worry not, my lady. His Grace will have words with them in due time, and you’ll be righted.”

They passed by some other patrols, and they entered the massive stone tower of guard. She reflected on the impressive surrounding, and most of all, she heard how the waves crashed on the shore not very far away. The ancient siege of House Targaryen was the wild dream of any stonemason, perched on the cliff, dark stone against white scum. And she absolutely _loved_ it. They stopped by some chamber, and lord Seaworth entered, motioning her to wait for him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work, Your Grace, but the hostage from Claw Isle had arrived. I’m afraid you’ll be a little disappointed, but she had made a long and unpleasant trip, if I might say so.”

“Was there any problems?” The king asked from his desk, where he was sorting some parchments.

“Yes, my lord. I’m afraid we were boarded by a Lannister swift boat. We were clearly outnumbered, but luckily for us, and particularly for me, our hostage can draw a sword quite well, and she helped us to throw those lions off board. She saved me as they tried to kill me, it seemed as they knew exactly who I was.” The knight explained.

“Wait a minute. She?” Stannis noticed suddenly. “How come it is a woman they send?”

“I’m afraid Ser Ardrian has played a trick on us. We have asked for his firstborn in hostage, and he sent us literally the one that was born first, her daughter. She is a widow; his husband was killed at your service. She is on her early thirties, but I’m afraid marrying her to anyone would be off the question.” He told his king.

“And why is it so, Davos?” the King sternly asked.

“It’s better if you’ll see for yourself, Your Grace.” The former smuggler told his lord.

“Very well then, let’s meet this crab woman of yours.”

Lord Seaworth made a gesture towards the guards, and they let her in. She quickly assessed her surroundings, smiling briefly to him, and then knelt before the King.

“Good evening, Your Highness. I am Talana Celtigar, here to atone for my father’s treason towards you and your cause.”

“Rise, my lady” the king ordered. “Were you aware of the conditions stated in the letter sent to your father?”

“Painfully aware, Your Grace.” She answered. “To the point to know my father was sending me to my impeding death. So here I am.”

“To your impeding death? Please explain yourself.” Stannis told her.

“If I can speak freely, Your Highness, we both know my father is playing a trick on you, sending me instead of his heir. Besides, he has committed high treason to his rightful king, allying himself with the Lannister spawn. So I expected you, as a just man, will return his debts accordingly, killing anyone who was sent here in his stead.”

“But you came anyway, enduring a very disrespectful treatment by my own men, and saving the life of my Hand in the process.” He sounded a little bit puzzled.

“It was my duty, Your Grace.” she simply stated.

Davos smiled to himself, and knew instantly she was safe. The king could not resist a solid argument like that. He watched him from the corner of his eyes, and saw him assessing what kind of woman he had in front of him.

King Stannis rose from his seat, and approached her. She was a tall woman, lean and with large and elegant limbs, possessing an eerie grace he could not exactly place. She had curled brown hair with some red highlights, but she was not ginger as his Priestess. And unlike her, she had a frank gaze in her brown eyes, that were surrounded by some pimples due to a prolonged exposition to the open air. She wore some breeches and a shirt, and she had a sword at her curvy hips. She was like no lady he had seen before, and when he approached her, he noticed something that disturbed him greatly. She smelled of sea salt, much like his faithful Hand. The sea he used to love so much, and that betrayed him in the Blackwater Bay. Shaking away the thought, he directed a glare to the woman, who stood there unaffected, and matched him with a glare of her own.

“Very well, my lady. You’ll stay here as long as your father won’t swear _personally_ his allegiance to me. I don’t trust you not to run away at first opportunity, son I will assign you some guards, who will be particularly told to be respectful, less they will face the consequences.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She answered, and bowed before she left the room.

“That went better than I expected” Davos sighted.

“And why she’ll not be married off, Davos?” the king asked. “She seemed well-behaved enough, not the kind of Southern lady anyone would expect, but she quite comely.”

“Well, Your Grace, ahem…” the Onion knight shifted uncomfortably “she threatened your guards, and I am quoting _to geld them with a blunt knife and wear their bollocks on her sword belt as decoration_ if they lay a hand on her without her permission. And she brought down not one, but _five_ Lannister guards with that sword of hers.”

“So you’ll pity any future husband that will try to wed or bed her unwillingly.” The king finished for him.

“Yes, my lord. And we don’t know how his father will react to this fact, so in my modest opinion, it is better to keep her around, as a reminder to him to behave and support us.”

“She seems an intriguing woman. No doubt your friend Salladhor will enjoy her company greatly.” Stannis stated.

Davos bit back a laughter, and exited his lord’s chambers lost in thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying my hand at a King Stannis fanfiction, and I want to keep it as accurate as possible. Please feel free to comment if I'm making some mistakes. Also, I'm not a native English speaker, so you can also point me if I have a spelling fault. Remember, Stannis is our true king of grammar ;-)


	4. Fire and water don't mix

Davos was troubled. His new appointments as the Hand of Stannis were increasingly difficult. He could not read, and he must absolutely go thought all the parchment they sent the king to fully understand the increasingly intricate Westeros politics. He enlisted the help of sweet Shireen, and he started to learn his first letters. Besides, his King was brooding in his chambers, letting nobody in unless that Red Woman, and only her god knew what she was asking him to do. Every sunset, she directed the fires with an increasingly amount of people around them, so he was deeply worried.

The first issue he had faced, the Claw Isle allegiance, have resulted in the hostility of lord Florent and would likely have brought him the wrath of his old friend Salladhor, but he had seen reason, mostly due to him being absolutely smitten with lady Crab, as he nicknamed her. She had proven to be interesting, indeed. She had arrived only a few days ago, and she had the old smuggler already wrapped around her little finger, just by laughing at his attempts at charming her and teaching him some game of throwing daggers. He tried to eat with her every time he could, gifting her with fantastic stories about his journeys across the Narrow Sea. She truly listened to him, asking him questions about people and foreign habits.

Stannis lords and their spouses just ignored or despised her. So she turned to the lesser soldiers and was often seen sharing minor chores or patrolling the battlements. She won their respect after menacing a minor knight for mistreating a very young girl, and doing the very same thing for a little squire that was being beated by lord Florent himself for no reason.

But the most interesting thing about her was her rapport with the sea. When sun rose, she could be seen at the little beach by the base of the castle, swimming across it many times. Then she would parry alone with her sword for a time, and came back to the fortress. Their guards were also utterly spellbound, mostly because her shirt did almost nothing to conceal her forms when she got out of the water. She was not ashamed at all, and always brought her dagger with her, just in case, but the guards were very aware of Stannis’s orders to leave her alone. Everywhere she went, she always smelt like driftwood and salt, and that was quite appealing to an old sailor like him. Not that he would think of another woman but his Marya, of course. However, he could see why Salladhor had forgotten the whole Claws treasure affair.

Besides, to place her higher in the new Hand’s steem, she hated Melisandre with a burning passion. Each time both of them shared the same room, sparkles would ignite. The Asshai woman had tried to convince her to follow R’hllor cult, but she had laughted sweetly and told her:

“My lady, do you happen to know how many gods people worship these days?”

“There is only one God, and Stannis Baratheon is His chosen one.”

“My lady, I strongly believe than His Grace _many_ accomplishments are due to his own competence, not to some God above us.”

“You know nothing. You should repent, for the night is dark and full of terrors.”

“Have you swam at night, my lady? Darkness doesn’t upset me the slightest. It is what happens in daylight, and what we can do to prevent it what really bothers me.”

After this exchange, who had all people around them amused or appalled, there was no peace between the two of them. Davos suspected the priestess would work her magic towards the king to have the Celtigar woman burnt in her fires. As he had suspected, one day Stannis summoned her to his war room, and Melisandre attended, as well as himself, as the king advisor. She entered the room in long strides, stopping by the Painted Table, bowing slightly to the monarch, but then standing proud and regal, her gaze levelled with his.

“My priestess told me your lack of respect towards R’hllor is dangerous, my lady. I must advise to change your demeanour immediately, least you found yourself in a trouble.”

“I’m deeply sorry if I have offended you, Your Grace. I understand I am a hostage, and not free to do as it pleases me, but my mind is my own, and can’t be forced or changed easily. And if I have earned a trip to the dungeons, so be it.” She told him.

The king was not pleased, and rose again from his seat to face her. Melisandre watched the exchange with a small smile, sure to win this round, until the king’s face come near his host, and his expression slowly started to change, from icy anger to something else, curiosity, perhaps.

“Pray tell me, my lady, in what do you believe?” he suddenly asked.

“I believe strong men rule this world, and people like me has little to say about it. I believe my path in life is determined by my own choices, not by some deity above. However, if I must choose a god, I’ll choose the sea. It was there for all my life, and I have shared with it my pains and desires. However, it hurt me with all its might, and still I loved the feeling of the waves on my feet, and will continue to do so. Could your fire god offer me something more? Could he erase my wrongs and bring me peace of mind at night? I really don’t mean to disrespect you or your high priestess, Your Grace. It's but a girl’s folly and I’m harmless.”

Stannis was speechless. He had never –ever- meet someone who talked like her, unless his Onion knight. But those opinions seemed less _interesting_ coming from the mouth of the former smuggler. However, this… _woman_ was voicing aloud his very same thoughts, what kept him awake at night, with such simplicity he could only nod. And to think he had almost agreed to burn her… He turned abruptly to Melisandre and told her.

“The quarrels between you two end _now._ Lady Celtigar won’t try to challenge you, and you, my lady Melisandre, you’ll not to convert her to your faith.”

“As Your Grace commands.” She answered, and angrily departed.

Her exit left the three of them alone. The king hadn’t leave her influence for so long, Davos would make the most of this situation, so he asked them: “If I may say so, why don’t we take a seat?”

She nodded, and waited until the king had taken his seat to sit herself, and then muttered softly: “I hope I have not offended Your Grace or lord Seaworth. I am often scorned for being so outspoken.”

“Not for me, my lady.” Davos answered. “I find your honesty truly refreshing, even when I find some statements quite naïve myself.”

“Isn’t it?” she smiled. “I can’t help it.”

The king watched her and saw no attempts at masking her feelings, nor the concealing of a seasoned courtier. She was honest, and he felt oddly at ease among those two, a bizarre woman who paid no mind to her death and a former smuggler who paid no mind to his fingers. Meanwhile, Davos was thinking of her words, and what she was referring with the pain she endured. The king must have been reflecting the same, because he asked her:

“What was your loss to the sea, my lady?”

“I lost my mother, Your Grace. She ended her life by drowning herself during a sea storm when I was young. But that’s not the worst” she replied. “It seems to run in the family, because many moons after that, my younger sister did the same. You’ll think it stopped there, but one of my nephews died five moons ago, felling from a rock to the water. They never found his body. And there is, of course, the little issue of my late husband killed by fire in Blackwater’s bay. So you see, the sea took all this from me, and I’ll continue worshipping it.”

“I have already offered you my deepest sorry for your losses, my lady. But believe when I repeat it and said your mother would be very proud of the strong woman you had become” Davos told her, thinking about his dead sons. Her bad luck shocked him.

“Thank you, my lord. I appreciate it.” She said. “But please, let’s leave sadness aside for now, sir, and pray tell me, what is this truly beautiful craft I am sitting in front of?”

He turned his head to his king, but he took some moments to answer, because his head was filled with two words: _late husband_.

“This, my lady,” he finally replied. “is the Painted Table, carved for the Targaryens in the shape of Westeros.”

“It is truly amazing,” she said, and slowly caressed the wood between her current location and the Claw. “so near, and yet so far away…” she mused to herself.

“You miss your family, my lady?” Davos could not help but ask, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

“Oh, gods, no!” she stated firmly. “This is also my last attempt to scape my father’s influence, my lord. He doesn’t have any love for me, I’m afraid, and with my sisters gone, there is not much left there for me, but I miss the beaches and the boats where I learned to fish and to fight.”

“But that table is not the only thing stunning about this chamber, if I might interrupt you, my lord.” She went on, undeterred. “Why are there four windows, Your Grace?”

“This part of the castle is called the Stone Drum. This particular chamber is placed in the center, and there is a window at each point of the compass, that correspond precisely to the four point to this map: East, West, North and South.” Stannis told her.

“Stone Drum, you said?·” her eyes lit up all of a sudden. “So there is music made by the storm here?”

“Yes, my lady.” He told her “It is quite disturbing for a gentle soul.”

“I’m not gentle” she answered automatically. “Oh, I don’t mean to sound so disrespectful, Your Grace. But I would very much like to hear the storm song, if you allowed it.”

 “Of course,” he said “You should go to the higher levels, then you can hear it perfectly. You are a peculiar one, my lady, if I might say so.”

“Thank you very much for your permission and your patience, Your Grace. I know you’ll suffer no fools.”

“Yours is not a fool’s request. It is only curiosity, I think. Besides, you are the only one interested in this godsforsaken rock.”

With those last words, she rose and bid her leave, bowing again to both of them. When she left the room, Davos watched his lord intently, and he only got a shrug in response:

“A _very_ intriguing woman, indeed.”


	5. Growing bored

The next morning found all our characters involved in their personal routines. Davos was struggling with some letters on a parchment, the king was with his Council and Talana was basking peacefully in the waves, when a voice startled her:

“Oi, m’lady, if you stay longer in the sun, you’ll really become red like the crab in that sigil of yours!”

“Salladhor Saan, you scoundrel! Are you spying on young girls now?” She rose and slowly went out of the water, drops dripping from her hair and sliding down to her breastbone. She is sight to behold, the smuggler told himself.

“You’re not a girl any more, Crab woman, as I can _very well_ see. I’m half a mind to steal you from the king and sail away, damn the consequences…”

“Oh, you are so sweet. Pray tell me, what brings you to the beach so early in the morning?”

“I’m on a scout mission near Duskendale, and I thought you’ll like to come with me.”

“Of course, my friend. Give a moment to dress accordingly, and I’ll be right down on the port.”

However, one of her guards absented briefly, and she wondered where he was gone. She had her answer no long after, when she was heading to the _Valyria_ and a very stern-looking knight stopped her firmly with a hand on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, my lady. My name is Rolland Storm, and I am His Grace’s commandant. You are not allowed to leave the fortress, I’m afraid. King’s orders. Please let me escort you to your chambers.”

She grow angry very, very fast. She really wanted to sail again and leave this godsforsaken stone and its stuck-up inhabitants for a while –the king was right, she thought for a moment- but there was no way His Highness would allow it. Very well then, she could very well become a nuisance until they allowed her to go on board.

“And pray tell me, sir, is there a training yard somewhere in this castle?”

“But of course, my lady. Would you like to watch our fine knights honeying their skills?” his patronising tone almost made her retch.

“No, my lord. I want to hone mine’s.” She answered.

 

When the king’s council stopped for a lunch break, there were three battered knights on his doorway, looking slightly embarrassed. Davos braced himself for the worst.

“Your Grace. A word, if you please.”

“Fine, sir Gower. What’s the matter?”

“We just want that woman banned from the training yard. It is hardly a place for a lady, my king. She is distracting our recruits.” One of them answered, wriggling his hands.

“And beating up our captains, it seems.” Davos pointed up. “I can only think about one woman capable of that in this fortress, unless you have decided to enlist that maid from Tarth in your army.”

“I’ll think about it. You are dismissed.” The king told them, and they scurried off to have lunch. Then, he addressed Davos. “I knew she would eventually become a headache, Davos. We must send her away, least she causes more trouble.”

“She is quite a temper, Your Grace. But she is very pleasing to talk to, I assure you. Besides, I think she was angry for not letting her sail with Salladhor.”

“What would you have me to do?” the king groaned. “That old man is already a fool for her, and she would likely had fled from our grasp as soon as she was on his ship. He would have smuggled her to Essos.”

“Old habits die hard, Your Grace.” Davos smiled inwardly. “However, I think she know her duty, and would not run away at the first opportunity. But you have a point there, you must not take any risks. Better give her something useful to occupy her mind.”

“What? Embroidery? I doubt she would be interested in any lady-like activities.” The king scoffed.

“No, Your Grace. Mayhap we could take advantage from her skills. She is a woman, and she could teach the princess Shireen how to swim. That would be very useful for her, and could maybe save her life, if she happens, the Gods forbid it, to be in a shipwreck.”

“You are right, sir Seaworth. I’ll speak to her this evening. Now, let’s resume the matter of our current finances while we eat.”

True to his word, when he finished talking with all his lords and the large pile of parchments unread in his massive wooden desk, Stannis pinched his nose and sighed in defeat. He remembered his last appointment of the day, and was suddenly annoyed. He was very tired, but he would rather deal with her now than have another bunch of his own soldiers embarrassing themselves trying to beat a woman. So he motioned his guard to enter and told him:

“Is the lady Celtigar already waiting outside?”

“Yes, Your Grace. She’s been here for a while.”

“Let her pass and bar the door.” He told him. “I hope you’ll search her for any weapons.”

“Of course, Your Grace. It was not an easy task.” The soldier blushed. Stannis could only fathom what threats she had uttered this time.

She entered his study, tall and proud as always, but she had a scowl on her face that could easily rival his own. He abruptly noticed she was wearing some a deep blue summer silk robe that clung to her forms. Little pearls of sweat started to flow in his forehead, not only because the heat. She bowed slightly, giving him a glimpse of her milky cleavage. Stannis gulped.

“My lady, it had been pointed up to me that you are currently engaging in some unladylike activities. I will suffer none of this in my castle, so I’m asking you to refrain yourself to do so.”

“Such as, Your Grace?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What _unladylike_ activities are you referring to?” she serenely asked.

“Mostly your _active_ presence in the training yards, my lady. You are distracting the new recruits.” He told her bluntly.

“Is that so?” she smirked, “I was afraid you were meaning me entering a dagger contest, fishing with your servants, swimming in the beach, riding a horse or chopping wood for the kitchens… You know, most of my daily activities are _unladylike_ by some standards.”

“Are you mocking me, my lady?”

“Not at all, Your Grace. I am merely stating a fact. I’m afraid you got yourself the worst hostage ever. A firstborn who is not a man, but a woman who is not a lady. I have grown wild at home, no one took care of me but myself. So forgive me for bothering you.”

“I’ll not be a smart man if I won’t take advantage of your unusual skills, my lady. I would have you teach my daughter how to swim, as she would find it more comfortable learning it from another female. But you must absolutely desist on crossing your sword with anyone in my retinue.”

“As Your Grace command.” She replied, but didn’t move. Stannis sighed again.

“Is there anything else, my lady?” he asked politely enough.

“As a matter of fact, Your Grace, yes, there is.” She approached the desk, and motioned to an empty chair. “May I sit?”

“Of course, my lady.”

She was quite close to him, and he found himself under her curious stare. He could not tell what she was thinking, but her closeness made him suddenly pinpoint what was wrong with her. She smelled like sandalwood and sea breeze, and there were some saline residues on her arms. He wondered what would feel like to lick away all the saltiness from her freckled skin. He was alarmed by his sinful thoughts, and suddenly became aware she was explaining something to him:

“….and I think the Princess would be more at ease if there were no adult males in sight when she bathed.”

“I’m sorry, but what are you proposing?”

“I’m telling you we would rather made the lessons available for Lord Seaworth’s sons, who are the Princess’ childhood friends, instead of letting his guards to swim with her and made her uncomfortable.”

Outside, a sudden noise startled her. A summer storm was coming, and the thunder clashed. He saw a wicked smile grow in her face, and she bend forward on the desk, approaching dangerously:

“Forgive me for my straightforwardness, my lord.” She said. “But you told me I could climb to the Stone Drum next time it would be a storm coming. And I think it’s already here.”

“Yes, of course.” He remembered. “Please go and amuse yourself.”

“Won’t you come with me, Your Highness?” she boldly asked. “I am sure it’ll be a wonderful sight, and we’ll be rid of all this ungodly heat.”

“Manners, my lady” he growled. “But I’m afraid I won’t indulge in such fruitless activities.”

“I’m sorry to upset you, Your Majesty.” She nodded, and almost ran away in anticipation to witness the curious phenomenon. Stannis stared to the door for a long time before he went to work again.


	6. Storms

Not much later, there was a knock in his door, and even before he could ever answer, the lady Melisandre entered the study. She approached him boldly, putting her hands on his shoulders. She was dressed in a red flowing wrap dress, and wore her ruby around her neck. She walked like a dangerous predator, and her eyes assessed him as they could read him to his very soul.

“Do you know, Your Grace, that your foolish ward is running up the stairs of the Stone Drum, muttering something about water and music? She shouldn’t be left wandering around the castle…”

“I’m perfectly aware of that particular fact, my lady, and I’ve given my permission. Anyway, I don’t think a summer storm would be a dangerous weapon for anyone.”

Melisandre approached her lips to the kings left ear, making him shudder.

“ _She_ is an offense to R’hllor. She is dangerous; I’ve seen it in the flames. You must let me purify her soul…”

A big thunder crashed in the distance, and the king could already heard the wind howling in the corridors. He had a sudden vision of a woman in blue, dancing to the rain sounds, her slender body soaked to the bone. He rose and faced the priestess with an annoyed expression on his face.

“I’ve already told you no.”

He took her in, her pulsing ruby, the unnatural heat that came from her and the expanse of her skin left for him to see and touch, and could not restraint himself.

“I need you.” He stated. She smiled dangerously, but instead of approaching him, she took her hands off him and started to retreat.

“You need faith.” She said. The king seemed to react at that, and his stern demeanour returned, but in the distance, he could hear a faint female laugh. That was his undoing, and he lashed at the priestess, grabbing her waist roughly.

“You’ll do as I told you to, woman. Am.I.not.your.king?” He hissed in her ear. “You try to use me for your purposes, now I’ll use you for my pleasure.”

With those last words, he grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it off her, startling her. She didn’t know the king had such… _passion_ in him. _That_ she can’t control.

He sucked greedly at her nipples, and bite her shoulder hard, making her moan in half pleasure, half pain. He wasn’t being gentle, not that he had been in their previous lovemaking, but now he seemed wild. She could get used to it.

He pushed her shoulders and make her bend on his desk, and she heard a rustling sound, he was opening his breeches. When he freed his length, he palmed her bottom lightly before entering her in one violent thrust. She howled in pleasure, and urged him to continue. The pace he established was hard and unyielding, and her moans almost masked the sound of the water crashing in the crystal panels. They went on for a while, and she knew he was close.

However, the king had good hearing, and despite their furious coupling, he was trying to hear something. When the thunder crashed once more, this time nearly above them, and the drums of stone welcomed it, his release hit him like a lightning. His mind went blank for a moment and he collapsed on top on the Red Woman.

“Your Grace?” she asked tentatively.

The king suddenly became aware of the whole exchange, and stiffened. He stepped aside, letting her to arrange her clothing, and he closed his own breeches, letting no clues on himself about his previous activities. He watched the woman intently, but she seemed to pay no mind to what had just happened, more so, her eyes had a certain glimpse of triumph. She was sure to have power over him, he realized, and he had let her.

“You are dismissed.” He dryly said, and she departed with a mysterious smile on her lips.

Meanwhile, as the monarch had though, his ward had ran up the flight of stairs to arrive to the balcony on top of the Stone Drum. She was quite fast, and her guards followed her from afar, not understanding what was so exciting about a storm. She arrived to her destination, and clutched the rails to look around. The sight was breathtaking, no doubt the Targaryens enjoyed it. Everywhere she looked, there was dark rocks in the shape of dragons, and as the rain hit the stones, the heat beneath caused a light steam to rise, making the whole picture seem unnatural, almost like she was in the heart of a haunted castle.

The wind was already blowing, but was not strong enough for the drums to come to life, but it was raining. She opened her arms and let the water hit her. It wasn’t like when she sailed, but if she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was on the bow of some ship that leaded her to unknown lands. She laughed, even more when she spied her guards, who had finally arrived and watched her like she was some kind of madwoman.

She was humming a tune from her childhood, and hoping she hadn’t run this way up for no reason, encouraging the weather to give her all it had. As if some god had heard her wishes, another thunder crashed very nearby, and a violent windshake made her retreat a little from the railings. She heard like a growl in the distance, and then the ground started to pulse beneath her, and the ancient voice of the stone surrounded her with all its mighty. It was like the sound of a bell, but lacking its metallic pitch. She was exhilarated, and turned around in sync to the powerful sound. It lasted but a few minutes, however, she felt utterly grateful for having the chance to witness a wonder like that.

“I must tell Davos about it” she thought. “And maybe thank His Majesty…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm not sure about this piece of angry sex, but Melisandre is so manipulative, I wanted to give her a glimpse of what she could and could not control. And they both enjoyed it, it seems.  
> Reviews are very welcomed, people!


	7. Plotting

Days and nights passed by, and there were no more storms. The heat suffocated the inhabitants of Dragonstone, making them all ill-tempered. The dark stones reflected the summer sun, and there was no way of escaping the hot that irradiate from their very core. On top of that, Davos was concerned. The king seemed restless, he was in a dark mood and he barely exited his office, allowing only the lady Melisandre to enter from time to time. He was estranging himself even from his daughter, not that he was a very affectionate father before, but he always checked on her progress often when she was around. The Onion knight suspected the red priestess to be getting more hold on the Baratheon king, he had even seen him once in her evening fires by his wife’s side. He knew instantly something was very wrong, the king hadn’t keep company to Selyse for a very long time.

He talked his sweet Marya of his fears when they were on bed, as he always did, and she laughted dryly:

“My poor husband, she gives Stannis the only thing you could not…”

“And what’s it, m’lady?” he asked, concerned. “I give him my trust, my loyalty and eventually my honest advice.”

“And she gives him her body. So who wins?” his wise wife told him. “Guess you must search something, or rather someone, to counterpart her.”

“Nonsense, woman. I’m no fool. I have only eyes for you” he kissed briefly her on the lips. “but even an old log like me can see she is gorgeous.”

“She is not the only woman available in this stronghold, Davos. And you have the answer right before your eyes, even if you are refusing to see it.”

“I know who you mean. But although she is quite pleasant to look at, I think she is the completely opposite of our king’s

“Sometimes, opposite poles attract, my dear. Just put them alone in the same room for a while and see what happens.”

“Either he’ll like her or have her killed, for sure. Anyway, I’m afraid she is as thick-headed as a brick wall, and there is no way she’ll do something unwillingly.”

“Then convince her with that silver tongue of yours. And now, you can put it to better use…”

She giggled as he flipped her down the mattress, and before engaging themselves in some vigorous activities, he resolved to give the matter a thought at dawn.

The next morning, he found his target where he was supposed to find her: at the seashore. She had just finished swimming, and was dressed as usual in a simple wrap dress, who fitted her quite well but allowed her the freedom of movements required for swordplaying. He remembered the talk to his wife last night and inspected her with an analytical approach, but couldn’t for the life of him fathom if the brooding king could eventually find her desirable.

“Lady Celtigar.” He greeted her.

“My lord Hand, what an unexpected pleasure!” she sounded truly pleased to see him. “I’m taking a little stroll by the sea, care to join me?”

“Of course, my lady, it will be my pleasure.”

“Can I ask something of you, my lord?” she told him. “Forgive me for saying so, but I have grown very fond of you, so please call me by my given name, and no more of this “m’lady” business. If Salladhor, the old pirate, is allowed to do so, surely you also can.”

“You honour me with your friendship, my… Talana.” He clumsy answered. “And how very convenient it is, for I bring before you a delicate matter of a private nature.”

“Of course, sir Davos. You can speak to me freely, and I will help you the best I could.”

Davos took a long breath in, and then launched the tirade he had planned so carefully:

“You are a very smart and capable woman, Talana, and you know the Hand of the King’s job is to take care not only of the realm, but also of the king himself. I am quite concerned about him, he is isolating himself from the Council and the military, and seem to pay attention only to the Lady Melisandre’s advices. And Gods only know what she wants from him. So my position, as His Grace most trusted advisor, is to find something, or rather someone to counterpart the Red Priestess effect over our liege lord. Do you catch my meaning, Talana?”

She was watching him in awe: “Are you implying you are sending me as a pawn to block Melisandre’s advances on the king? On which base, sir Davos? I’m not some beautiful courtier who will speak pretty lies to him. Besides, he despises me and my _unladylike_ demeanour.”

“You’ll soon find that Stannis despises liars and courtiers more than anything. Your honesty will appeal to him. Anyway, I’m not asking you to seduce him, only to talk to him in a regular basis and see what happens.”

“I’m not against it, sir Davos, but pray tell me, how will I accomplish this particular fact if he cuts himself off the rest of the castle?”

“Leave that to me, Talana. Should I understand you are willing to help me?”

“For the sake of the realm, I will. Well, who am trying to fool? It will be my personal pleasure to crush that red bitch, my lord.”

“How unladylike of you.” he snorted, and both of them laughed for a long time.

Very pleased with the rather unexpected agreement from the Crab lady, Davos went about the second part of his plan: getting Stannis out of his chambers. Not that it was a particularly easy task, because the king was a stubborn one, but he thought about one thing that would eventually work. He took advantage of some menial information he had to tell the king that very afternoon to start his plotting:

“Em, Your Highness, I was thinking if you would care to join me in a little inspection of a personal nature.”

“I don’t understand you. Elaborate, smuggler.” He answered.

“Well, don’t you remember you’ve asked the lady Celtigar for some swimming lessons for my boys and the Princess? Marya told me the other day they were improving a lot, and that Shireen was enjoying her lessons very much. I want to check in the lads’ progress and I thought you’ll want to see for yourself if the Princess was faring well.”

“Maybe you are right, and being by the shore will perhaps bring me some good. I hate this climate.”

Davos nodded in agreement, and they both headed for the beach. When they were approaching the sound of children laughing was filling the afternoon air. Then they took a glimpse of what was happening. The three young Seaworths were racing to a little rock in the distance at a very fast pace for children like them. Their swimming abilities had improved, indeed, but they seemed to be having the fun of their lives. Seating in the rock, there was some kind of strange young mermaid, with a blue wrapping that covered her chest. When the boys arrived to the rock, she took their turn and dunk in the water, diving so fast they could barely see her outline down the water. Then, she emerged with a laugh near an older woman, and Stannis was stunned to see this sea creature was nothing but his own shy daughter, Shireen.

She was sweetly coercing her teacher to do something they couldn’t hear, and finally the older woman agreed. She plunged on the sea and nobody could see her for a while. Then, slowly, very slowly, the point of her feet started to show up on the water surface. Inch by inch, as by some enchantment, her long legs emerged from the sea, turning around, as if she was performing some kind of weird dance. Shireen was enthralled with the elegant movements the other woman executed and the sheer beauty of it in the sunset. It didn’t last long, though, surely because she was running out of air. She emerged once again, this time her head first, and asked something. All children were clapping their hands, and Davos felt he could do the same. She was born to be at sea, indeed. Then he risked a glance to his king. His face was blank, but being the expert he was in Stannis Baratheon facial features, he could see his pupils were dilated in awe. Good, very good, he smirked inwardly.

All four swimmers were now exiting the sea towards some bund of clothes laid in the sand. Talana shacked her curls to untangle them from the sea salt, and dried herself with a towel. Then she carefully helped the Princess to her dress, and even brushed her hair, leaving the boys on their own. However, she seemed to notice someone was watching them, because she took a cautious glance around her and reached for her daggers, when finally she made eye contact and her shoulders relaxed. She told the princess something, and then headed in long strides to where they were standing. A sharp intake of breath was the only clue to Davos that her king was not expecting this.

“Good evening, my lord. Your Grace.” She bowed, water dripping from her curls. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Good evening, my lady.” Davos answered. “We were just checking on my lads’ progress, and I must say I am very pleased. I didn’t saw them so focused for a while.”

“Well, they all want to impress princess Shireen, because she is a much better swimmer than themselves. And you know, boys don’t want a girl beating them!” she smiled.

“Indeed, my lady. Nor did grown ones, as I seem to recall” he joked, and her smile evolved to a full laugh.

“Aren’t you a charmer, sir Davos?” She told him, but then changed the subject. “And then, Your Grace, have you see the Princess neat technique? I am very proud to be her teacher, she is a natural…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say around the stern looking monarch. ‘Is he not pleased?’ she thought.

“I must admit I am surprised, my lady. I didn’t think my daughter had it in her, but I think I can congratulate you, as you have clearly managed to coach her brilliantly.”

“Oh, there is no need, Your Grace. I only teach her the basics, and corrected her movements, the rest is only the Princess doing. She is a brilliant child.”

Never had Stannis heard of someone calling his daughter ‘brilliant’, she was a sweet girl, but she didn’t talk a lot due to her shyness, and she spend most of her time reading or embroidering. Seeing her so confident in the water, swimming like a fish was making him oddly proud. He was so out of his element that he made a boldly move.

“Then, you must perhaps told us more about the children progress, my lady. Would you care join us for a walk and something to eat?” he asked.

“But of course, Your Grace. However, I feel I’m poorly dressed for such a company.” She looked down to her plain wrap dress and her wet shoulders. Stannis followed her eyes and missed a beat. The fabric was slightly wet, and outlined all her figure. She wasn’t all busty and striking as the lady Melisandre, but was somehow more real than her. Slender, toned and with interminable legs, she had that untamed look around her that reminded him of some northern she-warriors. As fitted to ride a horse as to be… he halted that dangerous line of thinking immediately, and focused on the matter at hand.

“I don’t think so, my lady. I need no fineries around.” He answered.

“As Your Grace commands.” She told him, in a slight rougher voice that send some strange shivers up his spine. But then, she was talking about Shireen’s progress and nothing seemed to have happened, so he took it on his unstrained mind.

She was very pleasant company, as Davos has early anticipated, and he found himself enjoying the chat. She also walked and smelled like the waves he cherished, and her voice had some rich strong quality that reminded him of water falling. In short, he was facing a very attractive woman who liked to sail, to swim and to fight nearly as much as him. Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like how the story goes? Have you find some major spelling faults? Please review!  
> Thanks a lot for reading!


	8. Discover

As soon as he came to this sudden realization, Stannis was at loss about how to proceed. From what he had gathered, she was a widow and her father didn’t concern very much about her safety, nor would he care about her honour. That, paired to the fact that she was not a very valuable hostage, put him in a position of power over that woman. But that was a very revolting thought to him. He would not force a lady, no matter the circumstances, he was not Robert, for Gods’ sake. Melisandre had come to him willingly, and she continued to do so. He had the impression she toyed with him in the same manner that he used her for his relief. However, his longing for the Celtigar woman was another thing entirely. He supposed he would enjoy her wits the same as her body, and that was not the case with the often-disturbed mind of the red priestess.

Meanwhile, the sunset had turned to night, and he was heading to his chambers with sir Davos in tow. He wondered what the old smuggler would say if he could read his thoughts. Maybe…

“Tell me, lord Seaworth. What do you think about the teaching methods of this Crab woman?

“Erm, I think she is very capable, my lord. And surprisingly sweet with children, giving her temper.”

“You’re right. Seems that she won’t be a trouble anymore soon. Until Salladhor comes back, that is.”

“Oh, Your Grace, you don’t have to worry about the old pirate. He is all talk, he only enjoys having a witty young woman around. And frankly, so do I or almost any servant of this stronghold. Lords and ladies, on another hand…”

“Yes, I suppose. She is quite… a strange creature. But easy to look at.”

“That she is, my lord, that she is. Maybe she can be a refreshing addition to some boring events… Oh, my mind is wandering. Please excuse me, Your Grace, for I have spoken out of turn.”

“You know, maybe you have a point there. I’m growing increasingly annoyed of this inactivity and boredom, not to speak about the unholy heat. So why not? Tell the lady Celtigar she is expected to dinner at my table from tonight until further order.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Inwardly, the former smuggler was gloating. His plan was a complete success. However, he could not call it a triumph already. They would have to brace themselves for Melisandre’s retaliation. She would not leave the place without a fight. Luckily, his candidate had some experience in fighting. Literally.

Meanwhile, Talana was sitting on her bed, thinking about the bizarre events of the day. First, the Hand’s request, and then the king’s suddenly appearance. She didn’t know sir Davos intended to put his plan in action so soon. She was awestruck but composed herself soon enough to speak to no other than Stannis Baratheon, First of His Name. She suspected he was not one for small talk, so she went with an honest discourse, and surprisingly enough, she had spent some pleasant time around the harsh monarch. If he hadn’t that permanent scowl on his face, she would have considered him handsome, in a way. Wait a minute. Where that was coming from? The Seven saved her if she was growing an infatuation with him. That afternoon was intended only to help the Hand’s plan. Nothing more.

A knock on her door startled her, and she rushed to open it. There was a servant there, one she knew from the kitchens:

“Good afternoon, lady Celtigar.”

“Good afternoon, Steven. Is there something amiss?”

“No, not at all. Forgive me, my lady, but I come to tell you you are expected at the King’s table for dinner.”

“Oh, damn it.” She said. “I have no way to dress accordingly, I’m afraid I must decline. Tell His Grace I am deeply sorry for it.”

“You misunderstood, my lady. You must know His Grace better. It is not a request, it is an order. However, maybe someone can help with the dressing issue. Let me send for my wife, and she will find something appropriate.”

“Is that so? Then, thanks for your kind help, Steven.”

Sometime later, an older woman came in without even bothering knocking, and started to fuss around her with two dresses on her hands, muttering strange nonsense about fitting, holes and laces. She let her do it in a silent wish to be over this quickly. Then she endured the pain of having her hair done in a tight fashion, but all her riotous curls were in disaccord with this particular event, it seemed. By the time she had finished, the servant was exhausted. She inspected her work, and surly remarked:

“Not bad, for a fish out of water. But you’ll never pass for a lady.”

“I don’t intend to do so. You are dismissed.” she told her.

She was already risking being late for the dinner, and she preferred not to face the displeasure of the king, if she could avoid it. She rushed to the Main Hall, where some lords and ladies were gathered, and she waited patiently to be placed at her seat. Luckily, she was placed next to the Onion knight, for what she was eternally grateful, until she found the person who was to be next to her. There was a whispering of silk, and a red flash, and Melisandre herself took the seat on her left. Great. She was in for a pleasant evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I was enjoying some well-deserved holidays, mostly reading and no writing! Anyway, back to work and to this fanfic. Hope you'll enjoy it.


	9. Knights and days

Long tables were dressed along the dinner hall, and at the farthest ones, the garrison soldiers seemed to have a good fun. She was forced instead to look stern and thoughtful, eating in an embarrassing silence. Though anything was better than the shameless flirting that the red b… woman had started as soon as she was seated at the table, batting her eyelashes at the king, leaning towards him and offering a perfect view of her cleavage. She remembered the promise made to lord Seaworth, who watched the exchange with a concerned gaze. He wasn’t in a talkative mood that evening, it seemed, because he offered her no escape route from the awkwardness of being in the middle of the heated exchange of glances between the royalty and his priestess. She steeled herself, and decided than the best way to proceed was to engage a conversation with the strange woman.

“So pray tell me, my lady, have you had a pleasant afternoon today? It was so hot outside…”

“Not at all. I don’t feel the weather the same as other people. My faith in Rh’llor keeps a flame alive inside me. Hot and cold doesn’t bother me.”

“What a wonderful gift from _your_ Lord. You must be very proud of being bestowed such privileges. I have seen many people around your fires; they must feel quite inspired by your words.”

Melisandre could not stand more the extreme politeness and the small talk, and she burst:

“Such a nice comment, coming from a lady crab. Doesn’t the company of soldiers and sailors please you no more, that you have to come here and bother me?·”

“I am not feeling very good, all of a sudden. I’m retiring to my chambers, and you’ll suffer my presence no more. However, let me tell you something: you forget you are not the person on command here, my lady of Asshai.”

She abruptly rose, offering an apologising nod to Davos, who had watched the whole exchange in awe. She headed for the nearest corridor, not thinking about where she was going, when she heard a faint sound of steps chasing after her. She thought it was lord Seaworth, and told him without turning around:

“It was beyond my power, lord Seaworth. I was being polite, Seven Hells. I’m not used to this kind of niceties, being at the king’s table, talking with the noble folk. Tell me, old smuggler, how could you do this every day and stay sane?”

“He does the same as me, I think. It’s just our duty.” A very rough and very familiar voice answered her.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I didn’t know it was you. Are you upset with me for leaving? It wasn’t my choice, I assure you.”

“You put yourself very high, my lady. I was merely heading to my office.” He dryly answered.

She blushed deeply, and bowed her head down.

“I am deeply sorry, Your Highness. My comment was misplaced. I won’t bother you for a moment longer.”

Stannis considered her sad face for a moment, and sighed inwardly. He was utterly lost from the moment he had realized it was her in the corridor.

“Well, then. Could I offer you a glass of lemon water, perhaps to settle your uneasy stomach? You didn’t seem quite well at the table…”

“Oh, how very considerate of Your Majesty. I would not want to impose…”

“Nonsense. Pray follow me.”

She trailed behind her in a silent wonder. He walked in long strides, and didn’t care to make polite conversation, so she adjusted her pace and wondered what on earth possessed the brooding king to ask her for her company. She was about to find out, anyway.

Two soldiers guarded the doors of his office, and opened it with a bow when the monarch approached. He made a gesture for her to sit, and then proceeded to serve some cold water from a pinch conveniently place at his desk. She reached for the glass so her fingers brushed involuntarily with those of the king, and a spark of electricity ran through her spine. She dismissed the odd feeling, savouring the sour freshness of the lemon juice. It wasn’t sugared, and it seemed to fit in with Stannis’ general behaviour.

She was still silent, but it was a very pleasant pause from the polite lies that lingered everywhere when his courtiers were involved. He feel a sudden surge of something he couldn’t exactly place, but that compelled him almost _physically_ to trust her, to tell her of her biggest worries, knowing that she would _understand_. It was a similar feeling to that familiarity with his Lord Hand, a man who would gladly die for him and told him a piece of his mind.

It wasn’t a wise move, but he couldn’t help himself. He talked to her. His voice rolling like gravel in the emptiness of that room, he told her about his claim, about his defeat at the Blackwater, about the ravens who arrived with disturbing news: pleads for help from the Night’s Watch, whispers about a Dragon Girl across the Sea, the Red Wedding. He told her about his need for money in order to raise another fleet, another army. His despair when no one, not even his Red Priestess, couldn’t offer him more than promises, but no tangible advice. He talk and talk until his throat was raw, and a ghost of a hand handled him a glass of lemon water he hadn’t asked for. He was grateful for the gesture, and drank a mouthful, feeling refreshed and empty at the same time. He looked at her, and her eyes were sparking in the candlelight. There was indeed a deep understanding in them, but also a bit of mischief, as if she knew the answer to all his troubles. She still hadn’t uttered a word, but she rose from her seat and approached him very, very slowly, as one would do to a wounded animal. When she was but mere inches from him, the king stepped backwards, but she couldn’t be deterred. She stretched out her arm and merely grazed his cheek, then proceeded to walk the rest of the distance between them and kissed him, softly but unyielding. Stannis was dumbfounded, so he didn’t respond. He merely stood here, and after a while she noticed, and moved away from him. She was leaving, and he didn’t make a gesture to stop her. When she was about to push the door open, she turned around and said:

“Braavos. Think about it. Goodnight, Your Grace.”


	10. Iron will

 That night, Stannis Baratheon, First of His Name, was not able to sleep at all. The dawn found him with the echoes of her parting words still lingering in his mind. Braavos. That was a bold counsel, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He should talk to Davos about it. Sadly, that didn’t resolve even half of his problems. The other half was how to forget the searing sensation still branded in his lips from her soft ones. That, and the fact that he had acted like a _coward_. Seven Hells- he cursed- he was able to bang a red fire priestess but would not return a simple kiss.

Thus, his day started particularly early and he went through it just by sheer force of will, he was exhausted due to his lack of sleep, and also quite angry with himself when he discovered his own sea siren was nowhere in sight. His Hand, lord Seaworth, walked in his office with his brows slightly furrowed, which was a tell-tale sign of something bothering him deeply:

“Good morning, Your Grace. Have you summoned me?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. What’s wrong, smuggler?”

“It is a matter of no consequence, Your Grace”

“You must tell me of it, anyway. You are my Hand, after all.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I was speaking with the princess the other day about my reading lessons, we were reading about the Free Cities, and she asked me about sellswords. Then, I realised it would be a good idea to hire some mercenaries companies to help our rightful cause.·”

“With what money, pray tell me?” the king scoffed. “I’m not Tywin Lannister.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The older man sighed. “that’s why I told you it was of no consequence.”

“Mmmm, you know what, smuggler? I don’t believe in fate, but I won’t be a good ruler if I don’t seize the opportunity and a good counsel. What do you know about Braavos?”

“I was there twice or three times, when I was… employed elsewhere” the king smirked at the choice of word from the former contrabandist. “Not a very pleasant stay, but it is a wealthy city, mostly because of its huge harbour but also for the amount of gold that floods to…”

“Oh” realization dawned on the Onion Knight. “The Iron Bank. You intended to ask them to fund your cause. It is a risky move, but it could actually work.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m pleased to see you share my point. Yet, I’m afraid they would not feel compelled to help me.”

“Not if you ask them yourself, Your Grace. We depart as soon as possible and ask for an audience. However, we must always bear in mind the old saying _The Iron Bank will have its due, no matter what_ and not ask for something we could not return.”

“That’s true. Well, then. The matter is settled. Arrange for the Fury to be equipped accordingly, and we will sail as soon as possible.”

“I’ll see to it, Your Grace. Excuse me if I am overstepping my boundaries, but will your priestess join us in this travel?”

“No.” Stannis answered without a second thought. He could picture yet another woman standing proud on the prow of his war galley.

He navigate through the routine of his following days, signing scrolls, listening to his petty lords and waiting for Davos to finish the needed arrangements for their travel across the Narrow Sea. He had _almost_ forgot about her. He had _almost_ not wondered were she was hiding from him, because she wasn’t gone. Not, she was no _coward_. People saw her here and there, but he never spotted her. This was a fitted punishment for him, he mused. He had denied her, so she parted. Unfortunately, there were two other women that were painfully present these days. First, there was his wife. She didn’t approve of his expedition in search for funds, and she was complaining incessantly about the smallfolk, about how her own daughter, Shireen, was being corrupted by their simple ways –he honestly didn’t know what she was meaning with that- and how they were surrounded by miscreants. On top of that, one day she suggested he resumed his liaison with the Red Woman. He stood abruptly from his desk and said:

“That is none of your business, my queen. I shamed you with my dishonest behaviour, and you have every reason to blame me”

“Oh, my king” she answered “but I don’t blame you. I know you have lost interest in me long ago, and I am not keen on fulfilling my marital duties after so many disappointments. But Rh’llor blesses your union with Melisandre. It will give you strength to smash all his enemies.”

“I am not so sure any god is interested in my… marital affairs, so I beg you not to mention it any more, least to others.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

This leaded to the second woman in his life, that one quite more difficult to remove from his sight. She was becoming powerful, for sure. She acted like the fortress and all its inhabitants belonged to her. It started with little things, like when her followers got a little bit carried by and burned some criminals hold in the dungeons. Then, they started bothering the servants and guards, telling them what they should do according to the Red God.

Finally, Melisandre herself had tried to influence him, telling him to postpone his travel because she had seen in her fires that he would not succeed in his request to the Iron Bank. She came to him one day, offering her pale body and her unnatural heat for him to take, but to no avail. Unfortunately, for the priestess, he was under a very different spell now. The sea called him, more than it ever had in his younger years when he was Master of Ships.

 


End file.
